


Swallow (When I'm Drowning)

by Clockworklove



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 02:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockworklove/pseuds/Clockworklove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint hadn't exactly been briefed on the kid's background; he knew that he had been genetically mutated and what not, but nothing could prepare him for this.</p><p>This is a multi-chaptered story bur my settings are acting up -_-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The little shit sure was annoying, there was no getting around that. Clint fell hard onto the ground, looking up on alert; searching for the source of the impact. A young man, bundled only in a sport jacket and pair of Adidas running pants strutted by him. The kid had an arrogant smirk on his face, shaking his head, "You didn't see that coming?" Little shit. He always saw what was coming, that was his job; he didn't even need to look at a target to see it coming. The kid ran away in a burst of speed and Clint blinked in surprise. Sure, he knew about Strucker's experiments, but holy shit this was something. 

"We have an enhanced in the field," Steve had said. No shit. He soon lost sight of the boy, he groaned and kept moving. He would find him and pay him back; he wasn't some blind joke. Deaf, partly; but not blind. Cocky little bastard. 

He could see the boy standing a level above him, impatiently crossing his arms and pouting. "Oh, how slowly things must move for you, little shit," Clint thought. The kid moved and in a second was back in his same spot. Clint pointed the gun upward and shot through the ceiling. Must not have seen it coming, because the kid fell right through the floor; landing with a thud at Clint's feet. Clint kicked him in the side playfully and smirked, "You didn't see that coming?" He heard him groan, but saw the subtle smile cross his lips. The kid seemed to enjoy the banter, which Clint could admire at least. If Clint thought for a brief moment that the kid looked cute, no one would ever have to know. 

In the following few days, Wanda had felt a change in her brother that she hadn't known before. He seemed to be less on-edge and more gentle inside when she glanced into his head. There was a threat coming, they were all anticipating it; Pietro, however, was feeling secure and Wanda needed to pinpoint why. She still did not trust Tony Stark, even when he offered her and her brother a spare room to rest in for the night. She was beginning to trust some of the others though, and they were all staying in the tower; what was the worst that could happen. When she couldn't sleep, she always liked to peek her head into her brother's mind to see how his sleep was. Pietro hadn't come to bed yet and she began to worry, it was midnight and despite his constant energy, he needed his sleep. That was when she felt something strong, something intense flowing through her. Pietro's heart rate was skyrocketing; short bursts of pain and waves of happiness were intertwining with one another. What was happening? "Maybe I should go check on him," she mumbled quietly and got up, following her brother's heart beat. He was in a room across the hall, if she remembered correctly it belonged to the archer. Clint, his name was. He was one that she felt safe around, she had glanced into his mind (not mind control though because that definitely hadn't worked); he was a family man who always had his children on his mind. Why would Pietro be in his room though; did Pietro finally have a guy-friend to talk to; did he need span out away from his sister. Wanda knew they would always be close, but she wouldn't blame her brother for wanting to make friends. It wouldn't hurt to check up on them... 

She put a hand on the door and pushed it open, "Pietro are you o-" Her eyes widened at the sight of her brother straddling the archer, sweating and wide eyed; he looked at her like a deer in the headlights. " I'M SORRY, I'LL JUST GO," Wanda blurted it out loudly and slammed the door. It was okay, it was okay. She was totally fine with seeing her brother riding on a man they had met a few days ago. She covered her face and walked down the hall and to the kitchen. If there was one thing to expect from Stark, it was booze in the fridge; lots of booze. ~ 

Wanda was panting, shooting at everything that moved. She had told the archer that she would protect the core and she was doing just that. She wouldn't fail him, he had gotten her onto her feet; willing to embrace her power as a gift and not a curse. Pietro ran in, slamming his body through a few of the robots. She felt him; he was tired and shaking, but resolute. She felt motherly, like she needed to keep him safe like he always had for her. "Get the people on the boats, then come back for me after; not before," he did his petulant eyebrow thing and she snapped at him. "Do you understand?" 

"You know, I'm twelve minutes older than you," he smiled and tilted his head. He had been a lot happier lately and only she knew why. She smiled knowingly to him, despite the comment usually agitating her. 

"Go," she said as he ran off. She hoped that the robot masses would slow down, but they seemed endless. She felt her brother's heartbeat as he ran, gathering people and helping them onto the boat and to safety. Everything was going to be okay, it would be okay. 

Clint looked around helplessly for his teammates, the robots were out of control and there were way too many civilians in harm's way. A plane raced above him, spinning and heading back; Ultron was behind the wheel of it and Clint could feel himself growing nervous and searched for people around him. He saw a small boy a few feet away from him, right in the line of fire. He thought of Lila and Cooper; this child had parents somewhere who were worried sick. Clint's instincts took over and he grabbed the boy, holding him protectively to his chest. He turned his back on the gunfire and waited for it. He thought of his kids, he thought of Laura, and of Nat, and of Pietro. Pietro. Never in a million years would he have thought he would be falling in love with the little shit. Wow, he had plenty of time to think about these things; was he dead? He opened his eyes and looked down at the boy; he was safe, Clint was safe. He heard a small whimper behind him and turned to see Pietro standing there, then he saw the blood. So much blood. The kid had at least eight bullet holes in him and his body shook. 

"You..didn't see that coming," he choked out before falling to the ground,lifeless. He set the little boy down gently on the side and ran over to Pietro's body. His bright blue eyes were dead and heartbreakingly dim. 

"Oh my god," Clint whispered and ran a hand through the boy's wavy hair, brushing it from his face. He looked away, eyes shut tightly. Steve had run over to see what the damage was and Clint tried to hide his growing tears. "Get him out of here," Clint motioned to the small boy who's eyes were locked on Pietro's unseeing ones. When Steve had walked away, Clint lifted Pietro's head onto his lap and gently shut his eyes for what Clint would thought would be forever. He looked down to see a picture poking out of his pocket. Clint pulled it out and saw a happy family, including a small boy with soft brown hair and a big smile, hugging his little sister with his mother's hand in his hair. He tucked it into his pocket for safe keeping as Pietro's body was taken away in a helicopter. He didn't see any of this coming. He wouldn't see what was next coming either.


	2. Chapter 2

Days turned to weeks and Clint spiraled into a deep depression. Every night, he seemed to have the same dream over and over again; Pietro snuggled up to him in bed with the lights off. They had only spent one night together but Pietro had stayed close to him; head tucked under Clint's chin. Clint remembered taking a deep breath and heard Pietro coughing lightly in his sleep. Clint kissed the top of his head and pulled him closer. Pietro's light coughs turned into violent pants for air as he hacked harder. When he turned on the light, Clint saw Pietro's body covered in blood; the boy was coughing it up on a loop and Clint tried to help, but every time Pietro's body feel limp beside him. 

Clint jerked awake, breathing heavily and rubbing his arms in search of blood. He cursed his inability to escape the dream, but it tore him apart each time. Wanda had taken it painstakingly hard as well, locking herself up in her room and sobbing. The sobbing usually led to her not being able to control her powers, which was dangerous for everyone involved. She knew it was best to hide away, but promised to come out for training every once in a while. He had been wanting to talk to her about her brother since the night she'd caught them together; but after Pietro's death, nothing was easy. She came out to get food or use the restroom, but that was it. He ran a hair through his sweat-soaked hair and decided to pay her a visit. He still had the small picture he had pulled from Pietro's pocket and thought he should give it to her and apologize for having kept it from her for so long. He walked down the hall to her room and knocked lightly, not wanting to wake anyone else up. Wanda opened the door, surprisingly awake and on edge. 

"Clint, what are you doing up at this time," she asked warily. 

"Um, I guess I should say the same for you, aren't you all about resting your powers and what not?" 

" Stark showed me the power of the red bulls earlier and they may have taken their toll on me," she chuckled nervously. 

Clint shrugged, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to talk? Are you feeling okay," she nodded. "Good, may I come in.." he put his hand on the door to push it open and Wanda quickly put her hand up to stop it, jerking the door back into Clint's face. Clint stumbled back, holding his bloosy nose. "Sheesh, I was just wondering if we could hang out; it isn't healthy for you to distance yourself from everyone, Wanda. Pietro would have wanted you to make friends! What about Vision; he's a pretty cool guy. Rumor has it he has a thing for you.." Wanda's eyes were turning red and Clint threw his hands up, "Alright, alright!" 

"You do not know what my brother would want," she snapped bitterly. "Just because you plug someone doesn't mean you access their soul, archer." Clint had to admit that one stung. "If you don't mind, I would like to get back to what I was doing." 

"Which was?" 

"None of your business," she slammed the door shut, leaving Clint alone in the hallway. He could hear her quietly crying against the inside of the door. Maybe it had been wrong on his part to bring up Pietro, she did have a point: all he had done was sleep with him and engage in a bit of playful banter, it wasn't his responsibility to speak for him. He sighed resolutely and knelt down by the door, "Listen...I have something that belongs to you, okay? All I want is for you to have it, then I'll leave you alone." He slid the picture under the door and got up, heading back to bed. 

Wanda looked down at the old photograph of her family and covered her mouth. "Pietro's little picture," she thought and looked at her brother's young, innocent face. The picture had been taken on the day their father had gotten Pietro a bike with his savings. Wanda had always been content with books and puzzles, but Pietro was always out climbing around on the tree in their backyard or throwing his little rubber ball around. Papa had figured that Pietro should have his own bicycle, being the little speed demon he was. The irony hurt Wanda's heart; all of the gruesome experiments that had been done to her brother. She thought back to their days in the cells before they were fully separated; she would hear his body slamming into the wall or him gasping for air as if he were throwing up. They took him away for an entire day and she had heard the guards taunting him. Pietro laid his head back against the wall that night and said, almost to quietly to hear, "I'm so tired, Wanda. I don't want to run anymore." Wanda put the photograph up to her cheek and pulled her knees in to her body. She hadn't meant the things she'd said to Clint; he had been more than a one night stand. She felt the way Pietro's heart sped up whenever he was near the archer; she knew it was love. It was similar to how his heart was when she would comfort him, but stronger; and that was just when the man looked at him. Wanda sobbed and hugged the picture close to her. On nights like this, she felt him; felt his heartbeat deep in her chest and knew she was probably losing her mind. She looked up at her walls covered in drawings that she had done in her sleep, horrific images of monsters and Hydra agents. There was one she had done of her and Pietro that would have been nice if she hadn't stumbled into a nightmare and aggresively scribbled over it. She couldn't let Clint see what was happening to her; he would have the whole team at her door asking questions. What was she supposed to tell them? "I think Pietro is still alive and it is slowly destroying me." Shield had let her watch as they buried his casket in the ground, she had thrown a rose in with him. She was as brave as could be expected when losing the one person she had ever truly known. All those nights in his cell, Pietro had begged to die multiple times, but right when he achieved a remote idea of happiness, it was snatched from him. Her heart spiked in her chest again. Pietro is still alive. She felt it, she knew it was true. "Pietro is still alive!"


End file.
